Like Mario, this was one of those weeks when the words didn't flow. My fault, probably. Sometimes I think this is natures way to get the house cleaned and the bookcases dusted. But the truth is, Mario's signing tomorrow reminds me how scary it is to contemplate what will happen when Berkley actually publishes my books and I'm forced to put up or shut up. Now I have the luxury of not having to take responsibility for the success of my books. After all, I'm with a very small house with zero marketing budget and a limited review list. Any sales I've made have come about because of supportive friends and family who make it a point to push my book at any opportunity. I know when I start playing with the big boys, it's going to be different. I've seen how hard Mario and our good friend, Jeff Shelby, have worked. I'm going to have to mount that letter writing campaign and seriously hit the conference trail. I'm going to have to get out to bookstores, contact the local media, make friends with all the librarians within a fifty mile radius (make that 100 mile radius). I heard someone remark at a conference that writers are introverts who run around for three days at such events pretending they're not. In my case, it's definitely true. I'll sit in the audience at Mario's signing tomorrow night and be happy for him and excited and at the same time, torn between anxiety and fear. Will I ever be in that place? Will I ever be invited to sign at Denver's premier bookstore, The Tattered Cover? What will I do if I am? Will I choke? Will I babble like an idiot?